Gestare Art Collective

Yesterday I had my first mammogram, right breast only, in about nine years. I am of mixed opinion about the benefits of mammogram and have declined this annual practice of exposing my body to radiography preferring instead to trust that my complete change of life style and way of being in the world since my breast cancer of 1992, has very effectively reduced any likelihood of recurrence.

Why did I choose to have the procedure this year, I’m not sure other than turning 70 has brought all kinds of things into a different light in my life, and my excellent family doctor asked a very good question - ‘if they found something would you do anything about it?'

I did not realize the juxtaposition of events between the full moon for the Dea Nutrix post and my radiology appointment until I moved into the pose this early morning as the moon was setting and the sky was lightening in the East. Choosing a seated pose cupping my right and only remaining breast in my right hand and placing my left hand in the same position allowing the phantom of breast to return my body immediately began to respond warming and opening. Holding this pose as goddess, life giver, she who offers nourishment, reawakened that force in me through which all creative acts and thoughts are seeded. A familiar sensation, the fierce flow of sacral energy whirled through my hips up my vagina into the space my womb once held, through my heart and then around my breast returning again to the seat of desire the portal of birthing.

My body remembers the sensuality experienced in nursing my one child forty years ago, the touch skin to skin of our bodies as he became accustomed to a world outside my womb and I became accustomed to knowing I could no longer completely protect him from that world.

This pose, like a gift, returns me to a body awareness I hold in deep respect. A knowing of my body in all her fullness and capacity for sexual energy, sensual touch, giving and sustaining life, is a sacred vessel through which I am experiencing my life.

November 26, 2015, 14 minutes

My ankle bones touch as I stand with my feet together. I sway as a tall tree moving with the guidance of the wind. I become a pendulum, a vehicle of divination. I stand still. Yes - which direction will the pendulum swing for yes? My body undulates front to back, front to back, toe to heal, toe to heal. I stand still. No - which direction will the pendulum swing for no? My body shifts, moving right to left. Thigh muscles contract as I sway to the left then right, contract left side, then right side. I return to stillness in the center. I remain stable for the remainder of time in this Ma pose, breasts held, shoulders back, feet flat on floor. A tall tree standing rooted into the earth.

Meghan Sims - Dea Nutrix Pose November 25, 2015, 7 minutes

Barbara and I are together at her house. We stand together with our backs facing her broad uncovered window. As I enter into mountain pose, I cup both of my breasts. My feet are rooted to the ground. I breathe and I can feel my heart racing fast. My hands become warm with the beating of my heart. My breasts feel full of life. A tingling sensation begins to form in both of my breasts. I feel a fire of life. It has been over a year since I've breastfed my youngest daughter, yet my milk has not dried. As I stand in the pose, I feel my milk begin to let down, the pain of this makes me move my palms to the tops of my nipples to resist the pressure. The fire encases my entire being. I am at the moment of both of my children's birth simultaneously, reliving their first suckles. I see their expressions, Luna- wide eyed and curious, Catori- rubbing her wide mouth back and forth, nuzzling my nipples. I go through the days of giving with each child to the point of our ceasing. They were both early to move into solid food with ease, with their hands still reaching into my shirt for comfort.

ingred - Dea Nutrix Pose November 24, 25, 26

moon rides high these 3 nights in vancouver, unusually frosty and clear for november. from my fourth storey roof vantage, the first night i watch her roam the night sky above the lit up buildings where we apartment dwellers mostly forget she's there in our realm of artificial illumination.

i cup my breasts under my coat, the wooden deck under my boots creaks as my weight shifts from one foot to the other and settles at midpoint. yesterday, zoe turned 33, a resonant number.easy to recall her arrival in tiddington clinic, stratford, england. pale sunlight and milk trickle as her black haired head bobs up and down in rhythm with her sucking. her brother cory, 3yrs old, comes in to my spacious room with tall windows, sees the intruder nuzzling at my breast, marches out to get the nurse, who comes bustling in—is there a problem? your son says you need a bottle.

so much depends on our beginnings—

the next night 11:30 moon's lightening up all the west end, i can hear the ducks and geese restless in their sleep by lost lagoon, a heron's taking refuge on my roof close to a warm vent. as i get into the pose, i'm transported to a daytime landscape of hillside and sea murmur far below. though it's peaceful and i feel airy, i'm disturbed by shadows. i see all the lost children taken too soon from their mothers.

the next and last night in the pose near midnight. thinking can our standing in such a nurturing pose make our earth safer for children, women, men and all the creature beings whose home it is. my breasts are warm though they haven't fed a baby for thirty-two years,

Tannis - Dea Nutrix Pose - November 29, 2015

Hands are cupped under breasts under breasts, standing with feet together.

I am unable to keep feet totally together due to my hips so they are a couple of inches wider. My injured left shoulder won't tolerate holding my breasts so I allow my hands to move forward.

My hands weighted- with melons?- and drop down slightly
Now my right hand holds the earth
My left hand rises, now empty
Roots grow from my feet
I wait - witnessing the emptiness in my hand
Patient - yet eager - willing to receive

A star appears on my forehead
My lungs are expanding purple shapes
Beings are stroking my upper body's injuries
Something is being poured into my left hand
I wait
The liquid spilled over - falling into the earth
I am looking into the pool in my hand

I see a well of space
Tiny stars hover in the blackness
One large star raises in the center.

There is a continuous chorus…..AHHHHHHH……….

Thank you

Nane - Nov 26, 2015

Holding my breasts, I’m not really brought back into the experience of breastfeeding, though I did that for almost 7 years, a long and satisfying stage of mothering, of my embodied life. What comes is more a sense of universality, of holding, of offering the breasts of life – and the funny phrase “Breasted be” keeps coming into my head (instead of “Blessed be”!). And so there I am repeating Breasted be, Breasted be, Breasted be, to the room around me, to the world around me. A blessing from the breasts of life, breasts that nurture and feed and heal. I feel the strength of my breasts. I thank these parts of my body that fed and comforted my children. Comforting me too, in the simplicity of direct nurture. Holding and thanking all breasts, and the abilities of female form. Though males have them too, vestigal nipples—what for? Reminders of crossing genders in the womb. We all hold a nurturing gift.

Gestare Art Collective

MA Pose- 4

'dea nutrix'